


To mend a heart

by Tayani



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catboy!Akira, Catboys & Catgirls, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phantom Paws: Purrsona 5 Zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27146089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tayani/pseuds/Tayani
Summary: Akira didn't know how many days passed since the car with his old masters left. He waited patiently, refusing to believe they were never coming back. But, as the days grew colder and his body grew weaker... he might just need a miracle to happen if he were to survive.But then, why would onewantto survive with a broken heart?Written for Phantom Paws: Purrsona 5 Zine.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 24
Kudos: 219





	To mend a heart

The rain fell heavy and thick, single droplets merging into streams that washed down Akira’s face.

The alleyway was quiet - just a bit of space between two houses, out of sight. The water pouring heavily off of both roofs fell down into the little space, drenching the catboy curled up limply by its entrance. Somewhere deep inside, Akira thought he should get up and move, find a place that would be more dry and welcoming. That little voice has been promptly ignored, though.

It’s not like it’d make much of a difference.

Akira wasn’t an alley cat. He grew up in a house, never once knowing what it meant to be on his own, to be a stray in an unfamiliar city. Back at his hometown, he came and went when he pleased, secure in the knowledge that he was in a familiar neighbourhood where everyone knew him and where he could take care of himself perfectly well.

But that was months ago. That was before, during one of his evening roams, he did what a catboy was absolutely not allowed to ever do - he attacked a human.

It wasn’t his fault, he tried to reason with the people who took care of him, who had him ever since he was a tiny kitten. He was protecting another cat the human was about to assault - he meant well…

It didn’t matter. The people he treated as his parents, the ones who had always welcomed him home and fed him, now packed him into a car, drove all the way to Tokyo, where too many scents would confuse him enough he won’t be able to come back, dumped him onto the streets and left.

They even took away his collar. They’ve taken everything from him.

For the first few weeks, Akira waited.

He knew what had happened - what it meant, what happened to him. But somehow, his mind wouldn’t let him face the fact. He still had hope, somewhere deep inside. Surely, his master and mistress will come back. They will realize he did nothing wrong. Their car would come up and his mistress will jump out and hug him and comment on what a good kitty he was, waiting patiently all this time.

But days passed, humans came and went, and the familiar car never appeared again.

By the time Akira finally decided to move, he wasn’t strong enough to make it too far. Some passersby, seeing the curled-up catboy in one of the alleyways, would throw him leftovers - one girl even ran up to him with a whole packet of dry kibble she brought just for him. But the longer he waited, the more gaunt and dirty his face became and the more matted and muddy his fur had gotten, the less compassion he got from the humans passing by him every day. Finally, all he could count on were kicks and curses and jeers - the world was cruel, and Akira was only now truly understanding just how cruel it was.

So he started to wander the streets, in search of something he couldn’t even name. He’d crawl from alleyway to alleyway, digging through trash in search of food, lapping at puddles, curled up and shaking from the cold the night brought. And waiting - this time not for the master who abandoned him, but…

A particularly large stream of icy water trickled from over the roof and right onto his neck, making Akira yelp and shiver at the awful sensation. He crawled a bit closer to the wall, his hands shaking and his stomach rumbling from hunger. Out on the street, the light of the streetlamps reflected on the wet pavement, the orange tint of it seeming much warmer than the darkness of the alleyway to the catboy’s hazy mind. If he could just crawl out onto that beautiful, warm light - surely he’d feel at least a little bit warmer?

The sound of footsteps resounded through the empty street, quick and clipped with annoyance. Akira, already almost half-out on the street himself, scurried back into the alleyway, his once-fluffy ears perking up tensely. The footsteps were coming closer and closer until finally, in his field of vision appeared a pair of perfectly clean, polished shoes, gracefully evading the puddles on their way.

Akira looked away, curling up even more, trying the best he could not to bring the stranger’s attention to himself. He knew by now being noticed meant a kick at the best of times. If he had the misfortune to meet someone particularly cruel, then…

The footsteps stopped; the shoes turned, the stranger now standing still, facing the entrance to the alleyway. For a moment, Akira felt something was extremely wrong and then realized that he couldn’t feel the rain anymore. The stranger, whoever they were, carried an umbrella big enough to shield both of them once he came closer.

After a long moment of silence, Akira felt a tip of a shoe touch his chin, tilting his head upward. It wasn’t the painful kick he expected and he obediently looked up, eyes wide in confusion. He met a pair of garnet irises looking at him with a piercing gaze - a young human, around his own age, with soft, brown locks framing his handsome face and in a perfectly-pressed school uniform, an attache case in his hand.

He was looking at him in silence, turning Akira’s head from side to side before moving his shoe back and crouching down, so that he was slightly more on the cat’s level.

“...what a pathetic sight,” he said, in a perfectly pleasant tone. Akira curled back into a ball, closing his eyes as he waited for the jeers and hits that would inevitably follow. He did not expect a gloved hand resting, with incredible gentleness, over his head.

“Where’s your owner, kitty?” the stranger asked as Akira shivered and leaned into the touch, almost as starved for affection as he was for food. The raven catboy blinked and looked up again, meeting the stranger’s gaze.

“...they left me here,” he said. That pretty much summed it up.

“Huh… how cruel,” the stranger smiled sardonically, scratching behind Akira’s ears, making a low rumble echo from the raven’s weak chest. “I figured you weren’t a stray; the cats in these alleyways would sooner bite my hand off than let me pet them.”

For another long moment, the stranger was silent again. Then, he stood up so suddenly Akira jumped in surprise.

“If you decide today isn’t your day to die in a ditch like this one…” the stranger said, looking down at him again. “You can follow me. My apartment isn’t far away from here. If you’re good, I’ll provide you with clothes and food… and a place to stay, for the night at least.”

The stranger didn’t wait for Akira’s response - he turned on his heel and started walking away. Akira stared after him. It took him all of two seconds before he, too, sprang up onto his feet and, stumbling, followed his new master.

Even in the heavy rain, he could see the young human smirk when he noticed him following.

“My name is Akechi Goro,” he said, not turning to face him. “And you’ll be my kitty from now on.” 

* * *

Living in his new apartment, with his new master, was a mass of contradictions.

That first night, after they’ve arrived - and Akira had been so exhausted by then he barely had the strength to drag himself over the threshold - Akechi took time and effort to properly care for him.

He had almost carried Akira to the bathroom, forced him to take a long, hot shower and then a bath, shampooed and washed his hair for him and made sure to dry and comb his fur through once they were done. Then, Akira had been given warm, soft clothes that were only a tiny bit too large for him, and a glass bowl with a pile of random leftovers hastily warmed up in a microwave has been pushed in front of him - and after that, the catboy barely remembered anything more. All he knew was that he had woken up the next morning, feeling warm and clean for the first time in months and that the one responsible for this was his new master.

For a while, that was enough.

But Akechi seemed to swing back and forth when it came to his treatment of Akira.

First of all, he was frequently out - and Akira had barely dodged an impatient kick for trying to lay by the door so he wouldn’t get out one time too many. In the long hours when his master was away from home, Akira was allowed to lounge anywhere he wanted to in the house, take as many catnaps as he wanted and watch whatever he wished to on the television - but all of that was not as nice as being near his master.

When he  _ was  _ home, it wasn’t much easier to foresee what mood Akechi was going to be in. Sometimes - and the longer he lived there, the more Akira was looking forward to these times - he’d be entirely agreeable and seemingly happy to indulge his new pet. Akira would jump onto the couch the moment Akechi would sit down and wrap himself around his master, purring up a storm and nuzzling his neck, relishing the wonderful scent Akechi seemed to carry with him always. And, if his humour was really good that night, Akechi would laugh and blush and pet Akira’s hair until the catboy melted onto his lap and laid there contently in a happy daze.

Other times, though, it’d be different. Other times, Akechi would come home angry or sad or hurt; he’d slam the door to the apartment and growl and push Akira away the moment he tried to touch him. He’d march right into his room and yell at his pet whenever Akira tried to sneak inside to keep him company.

These times happened more frequently as of late, and though he’s only been with his new master for a few weeks, Akira was growing seriously concerned.

It was another rainy night; following a rainy day Akira spent cleaning up the apartment and staring out the window, at the droplets sliding steadily down the glass. Akechi came home a few hours ago, angrily throwing his attache case down in the living room and barely giving Akira an annoyed glance before he retired to his room, door slamming behind him.

At first, Akira kept away, knowing from experience he’ll only be thrown out if he tries to come inside after him.

Now, however… now, he was hearing strange, muffled sounds coming from behind the closed door. Akira’s ears twitched in concern, his tail swishing from side to side as he inched closer and closer, pawing on the doorknob as quietly as he could.

Out of all the rooms in the house, his master’s bedroom was the one he visited the least - at least whenever Akechi was home. When he wasn’t, Akira enjoyed taking a nap in the sheets that smelt so wonderfully like his beautiful master. Now, though, despite actually having its occupant inside, the room felt cold and lonely. The lights were out and only Akira’s heightened vision allowed him to see the curled-up figure on the bed, shaking in an effort to muffle his sobs.

Slowly, ears pulled back and tail bristled in case he was about to be yelled at, Akira walked towards the bed and slowly climbed into it, curling up next to his crying master. He didn’t say anything; he simply laid there, feeling the way Akechi’s body tensed when he sensed he wasn’t alone, feeling a hesitant hand pushing weakly against his back.

“Go away,” Akechi said, in what was supposed to be a snarl, but held no malice. Akira’s ears flattened even more against his head - he didn’t move. He heard Akechi scoff angrily, grabbing a fistful of his clothes and fur and trying to get him off the bed.

“I said,  _ get off _ ! Leave me alone!”

Akira only curled up into a tighter ball, stubbornly refusing to budge. The next moment, he felt a pillow smash against his head.

“I said get out, you stupid cat! I don’t want you here! Fuck off and leave me alone! I don’t want your fucking pity!”

At the last sentence, Akechi’s voice broke. Akira’s ears perked up. Slowly, he uncurled and sat up on the bed, turning to look at his master - his face red, his eyes puffy, anger twisting his features. Akira blinked at him and then tilted his head.

“...I don’t pity you.”

“Ha!” Akechi scoffed again, his nostrils flaring. “Then why are you-”

“I want to help,” Akira said, with simple honestly. “You’re sad… I want to be here. I want to make you feel better.”

For a moment, Akechi was staring at him. Then, he turned his face away, his lips pressed tightly together.

“I’m not  _ sad _ ,” he said sharply. His hands came up, wrapping around himself; his fingers trembled where they dug into the flesh of his arms. Akira sat there in silence for a while, feeling something twist and turn in his heart. Slowly, he reached out, but his paw has been slapped away before he could even touch his master.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You’re just a cat, what the fuck do you know?! You have no idea how I feel! You have no idea how it feels when you try and try your best and no one fucking sees it, no one wants you around! You don’t-”

“I know,” Akira said. His voice was quiet and soft, and yet, somehow, it made Akechi stop yelling and stare at him with wide eyes. Slowly, paws curling up into fists, Akira started talking, staring into his lap.

“I know how that feels. I know how you feel. And I can feel it, too, right here,” he said, looking up as one of his paws pressed over his own heart. His vision was blurry and he knew that soon he’ll start crying together with his master; but now…

“That’s why… I want to make you feel better. Because I want you around, always. And you’re special to me…”

This time, when Akira reached out his paws, Akechi didn’t slap them away. This time, when he pulled his master into a tight hug, buried his face into Akechi’s hair and started to purr, he wasn’t pushed away. Instead, his master melted into the touch, slowly but surely relaxing, until his arms came up as well, pulling his kitten tightly against him.

“...I’m sorry,” Akechi whispered, somewhere into the space against Akira’s rumbling chest. Akira’s ears twitched and he nuzzled his face into Akechi’s hair.

“You took me in,” he said simply. “Even though I was abandoned and dirty and ugly. I think I can take some lashing out for that.”

“I don’t want you to,” Akechi sighed, shaking his head. He dropped the issue afterwards though, his hold on Akira tightening. It only made his catboy purr more.

“Akira?”

“Mmmm?” Akira purred softly in response. He could hear the hesitant smile in Akechi’s next words.

“I want you to stay with me forever. Not just for the few nights.”

This time, it was Akira’s turn to hug his master tighter.

“Please,” he mewled quietly. “I don’t ever want to let you go.” 


End file.
